Guest guest Posted January 4, 2003 Report Share Posted January 4, 2003 Dear Sri. Sadagopan Iyengar Your account of the Englishman's Prappathi was enthralling to read. Adiyen has a small story to add to this prapatti. 1. Lakes (Eri) in villages are used for irrigation, bathing, drinking, etc. etc in olden days. Even now, Madurantakam Eri is surrounded by 25 villages and all these villages depend on this eri very much. In short any lake protects its villages. Similarly Swami Ramanuja protects everyone. So, Swami Ramanuja is an " Eri " too. As Swami Ramanujacharya got his panchasamaskaram under a tree (which is behind Andal Sannidhi in the temple) from Sri PeriyaNambigal in this temple, this Rama saved our Ramanuja by having his panchasamaskaram done at Madurantakam. Hence, this Raman is none other than " Eriyagiya Ramanujanai Katha Raman " . Adiyen remembers this story from one who was doing kaimkaryam in Sri Ramanujar Sannidhi at Madurantakam. If there any mistakes in the story, please accept my apologies. 2. Only in this kshetram, Swami Ramanuja will be wearing " Silver White Veshti " as at the time of having panchasamaskaram , our acharyan was still a gruhasthan. Beside him is present his acharyan, Sri Periya Nambigal. Adiyen Ramanuja Dasan Lakshminarasimhan S. ------------------------- Srimathe Lakshminrusimha divya pAduka sevika srivan satakopa Sri Narayana Yathindra MahadesikAya Namaha ------------------------- > " sadagopaniyengar " <sadagopaniyengar > " " >,, " bhakti-list " ><bhakti-list >, " tiruvengadam " ><tiruvengadam >, " Oppiliappan " ><Oppiliappan >, " radha jagannathan " ><radha, " j.srinivasan " ><j.srinivasan, " cs.srinivasan " <chetlurvas, " padmaja " ><ayodhyarama, " mythily ramadesikan " <r_mythily >CC: " sadagopaniyengar " <sadagopaniyengar > " An Englishman's Prapatthi " >Sat, 4 Jan 2003 23:02:22 +0530 > > >Srimate SrivanSatakopa Sri Vedanta Desika Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama: > > > > An Englishman's Prapatthi > > > > > It was pouring cats and dogs. The Rain-God was on a destruction >spree, and all fields bearing crop ripe for harvest were submerged. If the >crop continued to be under water for a couple of days more, the grain would >sprout, dashing the growers' hopes of a bountiful harvest and condemning >farmers to another year of abject poverty. The flowing rainwaters had not >spared dwellings too, and they were under a foot of water. Cattle, chicken, >and other helpless creatures stood drenched, finding no dry place to take >shelter in. Children cried in hunger and were hushed by the miserable >parents, who could find no dry twig or leaves for lighting a fire and >making food. The strong, icy wind pierced the skin like needles and made >everyone shiver. > > > > The majority of the village people were sheltered in the Rama temple at >the center of the village, towering high and mighty against the night sky. >The temple was however no perfect haven, for the roof, left uncared for >decades, was leaking. Rain drops which insinuated themselves through the >sieve-like roof did not spare even the majestic Lord, with the Kodhandam in >His hand and holding Piratti's hand with His other, in a depiction of the >divine wedding. It was as if the Rain god was performing Thirumanjanam to >the Lord, whose tirumeni had not experienced one for months. The temple was >in the preliminary stages of dilapidation, with the villagers paying scant >attention to the needs of their Lord Protector, intent in their >materialistic pursuits. Despite all that, when confronted by the non-stop >downpour, the villagers flocked to the temple, which was the safest shelter >they could find. They had absolutely no qualms in seeking the Lord's >protection in distress, though they had ignored His existence right in >their midst, when prosperity smiled at them. > > > > The talk in the temple centered on a single topic-what would happen to >the vast lake on the outskirts of the village, if the torrential rain >continued? People who had been adventurous enough to have a peek at the >lake confirmed that it was almost full in the morning. It was a huge lake, >capable of accommodating a vast quantity of water and catering to the >irrigational needs of fields for a hundred miles around. It had strong >bunds built high to contain and consolidate inflows, and had never dried >up, however rainless be the season. > > > > It was this lake that was causing not a little concern among the locals. >What would happen if the unthinkable occurred? What if the lake were to >breach, unable to contain the copious inflows brought in by the continuing >torrents? The thought of all that vast expanse of water cascading down from >the breached bunds was terrifying. It would wipe out the village and >hundreds like it within seconds, leaving none to recount the disaster. Such >a thing had never happened before, leaving those living near it secure in >the belief of its invincibility. However, nothing can stand in the face of >nature's fury and the lake was no exception. Its bunds were of mud and >stone only, and the immense pressure of water against them could just blow >them away, opening the floodgates to misery. > > > >A senior citizen, belonging to more religious times and who had seen the >temple at the height of its prosperity and buzzing with spiritual activity, >lamented the villagers' neglect of the temple and disinterest in its >upkeep. He chided them for having angered the Lord through their irreverent >and ungrateful attitudes. The mills of God grind slow, but they do grind >sure and the old man was certain that nemesis had caught up with the >unrepentant population. > > > > Unnerved by the old man's pronouncements, the drenched crowd shushed him >to silence and began to think of petitioning the governmental authorities >for assistance. To prevent the impending catastrophe, the tank bunds had to >be immediately strengthened and heightened. This was a monumental job, for >the lake stretched away as far as the eye could see and the bunds >encompassed a perimeter of several miles. > > > > The British were still ruling the country and the District Collector, a >pious man by name Colonel Place, was in charge of the area. When the matter >was represented to him in all its magnitude, he immediately realized the >explosiveness of the situation and ordered his minions to arrange for >strengthening the lake bunds and for monitoring the condition >round-the-clock. The wheels of Government swung into action and an army of >workers busied themselves in carrying out the Collector's orders. > > > > The rain, however, continued to come down in torrents without any >let-up and the water level in the lake kept rising menacingly. Though night >had advanced, sleep eluded the British man, who paced restlessly in his >quarters, worried at the lack of let-up in the downpour. He decided to >inspect the bund-work personally and left with his retinue to the lake, >paying scant attention to those who tried to dissuade him on the grounds of >impending danger. As one used to leading from the front, he left for the >lake and arrived amidst a steady downpour. He climbed to the top of the >bund and the sight that greeted his eyes took away his breath, the enormity >of the situation striking him with full force. > > > > The water level had risen alarmingly, till it now lapped at his feet, at >his position on the top perimeter of the bund. Another hour or so of the >rain and the lake would breach, with cataclysmic consequences. And since >rain was still coming down in sheets accompanied by a gale, there seemed >little hope of averting the inevitable. It was as if these miserable, >uneducated and uncultured masses were destined to a watery grave. Then a >chilling thought struck him-in deciding to visit the scene of action, he >had painted himself into a corner and had no way now of returning to >safety. It looked as if he too would be sharing the watery graves of the >people he had thought about disparagingly a moment before. > > > >Was it the will of the Lord Jesus that he should die in a heathen land, >forsaking his beautiful wife and affectionate children in distant England? >The moment these thoughts occurred to him, he banished them with guilt-he >was the District Collector, responsible for the lives and safety of >thousands, be they heathens or unlettered. They looked up to him with >child-like faith, hoping against hope that the tall, fair-skinned " Durai " >would somehow work a miracle and save them all from certain death. > > > >But what could he do in the face of Nature's unrelenting fury? The swirling >waters of the lake were looking more menacing by the minute, and the wind >had snatched away the umbrella held over his head by a lackey, apparently >angered at the Collector's efforts at protecting his head while thousands >of the proletariat were drenched to the skin stretched tightly over their >skeletal bodies. > > > >Colonel Place was desperate and could think of no way to prevent the waters >rushing out on their terrible mission of destruction. The old man in the >temple, who had spoken of the neglected Lord and the awaiting nemesis, was >also one of the Collector's retinue. In the pushing and pummeling wind, he >had reached the Collector's side and, picking up courage, told the Official >that only Lord Rama could save them now, as the situation seemed beyond >human intervention. He explained to the skeptical Englishman the immense >power of the Lord and His matchless beauty. In the drenching downpour, >despite the wind snatching away many of his words, and in his broken >English, he gave the foreigner an account of the exploits of Sri Rama and >of His bridging the vast ocean with the aid of mere monkeys. The old man >spoke with emotion of the Lord's infinite mercy and His abiding concern for >the innocent. > > > >It all seemed pretty unreal to the Collector-he was standing in pouring >rain on the bund of a gigantic lake on the verge of breaching, hours, >perhaps only minutes away from certain death, listening to an old native >blabbering about a heathen god. He shook his head in disbelief at his own >predicament and tried in vain to shore up his sagging faith in life. > > > >The old man, with little else to do, continued his enthralling narrative of >the Lord's prowess with the bow and of how His emissary was able to just >fly over the vast ocean, again speaking with tears of the infinite mercy >that characterized this " KaruNA Kakuttsttha " , the scion of a royal family >who spent fourteen hard years in the jungle, just to obey an unjust command >supposedly from His father and conveyed to Him by a step-mother who was >intent on making her own son the heir to the throne. > > > > > >When we are drowning, we tend to clutch at straws in desperation, >especially when nothing else is available to hold on to. Colonel Place was >in a similar situation. Though his strict Christian upbringing and military >training prompted only skepticism and disbelief at the old man's tales, >still an image began to form in his mind of a tall, handsome Prince, with a >long bow held aloft in His powerful hands, the personification of mercy and >righteous conduct, the symbol of sacrifice, His lotus-like eyes brimming >with mercy for all mortals, and accompanied by an equally impressive >figure, obviously a younger brother and ever ready to rush to the rescue of >those in distress, at a mere call for succour, be it from whichever >quarter. And once the image of the bewitching Lord entered his mind, Place >found it difficult to shake it off and experienced an extremely pleasurable >sensation, even amidst the desperate situation he found himself trapped in. > > > >Still clutching at straws, his mind reluctantly veered round to the >possibility of appealing to this mythological hero for aid, which seemed >the only thing left, especially since all other efforts had failed. And >once his mind accepted what was hitherto unthinkable for him, he felt >unreasonably buoyed up and prayed in his heart of hearts to Sri Rama to >somehow, somehow, lead him and thousands of his subjects out of this >apparently inescapable end. > > > > " Oh Ram! " , prayed the Englishman, " Please do this, if not for my sake, then >for the sake of the thousands who believe in You with all their spiritual >might and conviction. I was listening to the tales of Your impossible feats >with only half an ear. However, if it was possible for You to conquer that >vast body of waters (lying between You and Lanka) with the mere threat of >retribution, it should be no difficult task for You to control the menacing >waters of this MadhurAntakam lake and to keep them confined to the inner >bunds. I know full well that these are the words of an infidel who lacks >absolute faith in You: but Your reputation as the epitome of mercy prompts >me to beseech You. > > Do this for me and for the sake of the hundreds of men, women and >children who are in peril, and I shall build a temple for Your Consort, >whom You appear to love dearly. Lord, please do help me! " > > > >The moment this secret prayer was concluded, the Englishman saw, in a >brilliant flash of lightning, the figures of two extraordinarily handsome >young men, both with bows held aloft, appearing on the tank bund in the >pouring rain. Their luminescent eyes seemed to radiate compassion and >benevolence. Their beauty was beyond description and their regal bearing >exposed their flawless lineage. They were perfectly proportioned specimens >of virility, with a majestic gait and magnificent deportment. The elder of >the divine duo looked at the spell-bound Colonel Place with twinkling eyes >that seemed to hold out an assurance of assistance, amused at the >Englishman's effort at bribery through the offer of a temple construction >for Sri Mythily. > >The awe-struck foreigner, overwhelmed by the unbelievable apparition, just >fainted and fell on the soddy tank bund with a thud, slipping into >unconsciousness, obviously incapable of absorbing the full delight of the >divine spectacle. > > > >When he emerged from his trance, Colonel Place found himself in his >comfortable bed in his own quarters, with his minions peering anxiously at >his supine form. Reminded of the impossible situation in which he had >fainted, the Collector sat up with a jerk and demanded from his >subordinates the latest position on the flooding threat, and felt immense >relief wash over him when told that the rains had stopped with miraculous >suddenness during the night and the lake waters too, poised on the brink, >had receded to fairly safe levels. Through a planned opening of the >sluices, the water level was brought back to near normal and the threat had >blown-over. > > > >Colonel Place's skin tingled when he remembered the Divine Youth he had >witnessed in that flash of lightning, who had appeared as if in answer to >his unuttered prayers, and effortlessly saved not only himself but >innumerable others too from a certain and watery grave. The vivid image of >the Lord and His infinite mercy in answering the insincere prayers of an >unbelieving foreigner continued to occupy the Englishman's thoughts >forever, and he used to recount the tale with fervour to sceptical >audiences even after his return to England. > > > >However, Colonel Place's newfound faith did not desert him the moment his >job was done, and he lived up to his part of the bargain by constructing >the ThAyAr Sannidhi at MadhurAntakam. A plaque on the Sannidhi walls still >stands testimony to the aforesaid legend, which has bestowed the Lord with >yet another tirunAmam, lovingly coined by His grateful votaries- " Eri kAttha >Raman " . > > > >Srimate Sri LakshmINrsimha divya paduka sevaka SrivanSatakopa Sri Narayana >Yatindra Mahadesikaya Nama: > >Dasan, Sadagopan. > > > > > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 6, 2003 Report Share Posted January 6, 2003 Respected Ramanuja Bhaktas, Interestingly, as I was preparing to send Sri Madhavachari's personal account of his initiation into our faith under the tutelage of Varada Yatiraja Jeeyar, I happened across this account of another Western experience of Sri Ramanuja's Vision. It recalls the story of Colonel Place, a respected member of Her Majesty's Regiment in India during the days of the British Raj. His experience with the Divine would take place in the town of MadhurAntakam, the place where Bhagavad Sri Ramanuja Himself had undergone the sacrament of panchasamskAram. adiyEn rAmAnuja dAsan Mohan -------- Srimate SrivanSatakopa Sri Vedanta Desika Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama: An Englishman's Prapatthi It was pouring cats and dogs. The Rain-God was on a destruction spree, and all fields bearing crop ripe for harvest were submerged. If the crop continued to be under water for a couple of days more, the grain would sprout, dashing the growers' hopes of a bountiful harvest and condemning farmers to another year of abject poverty. The flowing rainwaters had not spared dwellings too, and they were under a foot of water. Cattle, chicken, and other helpless creatures stood drenched, finding no dry place to take shelter in. Children cried in hunger and were hushed by the miserable parents, who could find no dry twig or leaves for lighting a fire and making food. The strong, icy wind pierced the skin like needles and made everyone shiver. The majority of the village people were sheltered in the Rama temple at the center of the village, towering high and mighty against the night sky. The temple was however no perfect haven, for the roof, left uncared for decades, was leaking. Rain drops which insinuated themselves through the sieve-like roof did not spare even the majestic Lord, with the Kodhandam in His hand and holding Piratti's hand with His other, in a depiction of the divine wedding. It was as if the Rain god was performing Thirumanjanam to the Lord, whose tirumeni had not experienced one for months. The temple was in the preliminary stages of dilapidation, with the villagers paying scant attention to the needs of their Lord Protector, intent in their materialistic pursuits. Despite all that, when confronted by the non-stop downpour, the villagers flocked to the temple, which was the safest shelter they could find. They had absolutely no qualms in seeking the Lord's protection in distress, though they had ignored His existence right in their midst, when prosperity smiled at them. The talk in the temple centered on a single topic-what would happen to the vast lake on the outskirts of the village, if the torrential rain continued? People who had been adventurous enough to have a peek at the lake confirmed that it was almost full in the morning. It was a huge lake, capable of accommodating a vast quantity of water and catering to the irrigational needs of fields for a hundred miles around. It had strong bunds built high to contain and consolidate inflows, and had never dried up, however rainless be the season. It was this lake that was causing not a little concern among the locals. What would happen if the unthinkable occurred? What if the lake were to breach, unable to contain the copious inflows brought in by the continuing torrents? The thought of all that vast expanse of water cascading down from the breached bunds was terrifying. It would wipe out the village and hundreds like it within seconds, leaving none to recount the disaster. Such a thing had never happened before, leaving those living near it secure in the belief of its invincibility. However, nothing can stand in the face of nature's fury and the lake was no exception. Its bunds were of mud and stone only, and the immense pressure of water against them could just blow them away, opening the floodgates to misery. A senior citizen, belonging to more religious times and who had seen the temple at the height of its prosperity and buzzing with spiritual activity, lamented the villagers' neglect of the temple and disinterest in its upkeep. He chided them for having angered the Lord through their irreverent and ungrateful attitudes. The mills of God grind slow, but they do grind sure and the old man was certain that nemesis had caught up with the unrepentant population. Unnerved by the old man's pronouncements, the drenched crowd shushed him to silence and began to think of petitioning the governmental authorities for assistance. To prevent the impending catastrophe, the tank bunds had to be immediately strengthened and heightened. This was a monumental job, for the lake stretched away as far as the eye could see and the bunds encompassed a perimeter of several miles. The British were still ruling the country and the District Collector, a pious man by name Colonel Place, was in charge of the area. When the matter was represented to him in all its magnitude, he immediately realized the explosiveness of the situation and ordered his minions to arrange for strengthening the lake bunds and for monitoring the condition round-the-clock. The wheels of Government swung into action and an army of workers busied themselves in carrying out the Collector's orders. The rain, however, continued to come down in torrents without any let-up and the water level in the lake kept rising menacingly. Though night had advanced, sleep eluded the British man, who paced restlessly in his quarters, worried at the lack of let-up in the downpour. He decided to inspect the bund-work personally and left with his retinue to the lake, paying scant attention to those who tried to dissuade him on the grounds of impending danger. As one used to leading from the front, he left for the lake and arrived amidst a steady downpour. He climbed to the top of the bund and the sight that greeted his eyes took away his breath, the enormity of the situation striking him with full force. The water level had risen alarmingly, till it now lapped at his feet, at his position on the top perimeter of the bund. Another hour or so of the rain and the lake would breach, with cataclysmic consequences. And since rain was still coming down in sheets accompanied by a gale, there seemed little hope of averting the inevitable. It was as if these miserable, uneducated and uncultured masses were destined to a watery grave. Then a chilling thought struck him-in deciding to visit the scene of action, he had painted himself into a corner and had no way now of returning to safety. It looked as if he too would be sharing the watery graves of the people he had thought about disparagingly a moment before. Was it the will of the Lord Jesus that he should die in a heathen land, forsaking his beautiful wife and affectionate children in distant England? The moment these thoughts occurred to him, he banished them with guilt-he was the District Collector, responsible for the lives and safety of thousands, be they heathens or unlettered. They looked up to him with child-like faith, hoping against hope that the tall, fair-skinned " Durai " would somehow work a miracle and save them all from certain death. But what could he do in the face of Nature's unrelenting fury? The swirling waters of the lake were looking more menacing by the minute, and the wind had snatched away the umbrella held over his head by a lackey, apparently angered at the Collector's efforts at protecting his head while thousands of the proletariat were drenched to the skin stretched tightly over their skeletal bodies. Colonel Place was desperate and could think of no way to prevent the waters rushing out on their terrible mission of destruction. The old man in the temple, who had spoken of the neglected Lord and the awaiting nemesis, was also one of the Collector's retinue. In the pushing and pummeling wind, he had reached the Collector's side and, picking up courage, told the Official that only Lord Rama could save them now, as the situation seemed beyond human intervention. He explained to the skeptical Englishman the immense power of the Lord and His matchless beauty. In the drenching downpour, despite the wind snatching away many of his words, and in his broken English, he gave the foreigner an account of the exploits of Sri Rama and of His bridging the vast ocean with the aid of mere monkeys. The old man spoke with emotion of the Lord's infinite mercy and His abiding concern for the innocent. It all seemed pretty unreal to the Collector-he was standing in pouring rain on the bund of a gigantic lake on the verge of breaching, hours, perhaps only minutes away from certain death, listening to an old native blabbering about a heathen god. He shook his head in disbelief at his own predicament and tried in vain to shore up his sagging faith in life. The old man, with little else to do, continued his enthralling narrative of the Lord's prowess with the bow and of how His emissary was able to just fly over the vast ocean, again speaking with tears of the infinite mercy that characterized this " KaruNA Kakuttsttha " , the scion of a royal family who spent fourteen hard years in the jungle, just to obey an unjust command supposedly from His father and conveyed to Him by a step-mother who was intent on making her own son the heir to the throne. When we are drowning, we tend to clutch at straws in desperation, especially when nothing else is available to hold on to. Colonel Place was in a similar situation. Though his strict Christian upbringing and military training prompted only skepticism and disbelief at the old man's tales, still an image began to form in his mind of a tall, handsome Prince, with a long bow held aloft in His powerful hands, the personification of mercy and righteous conduct, the symbol of sacrifice, His lotus-like eyes brimming with mercy for all mortals, and accompanied by an equally impressive figure, obviously a younger brother and ever ready to rush to the rescue of those in distress, at a mere call for succour, be it from whichever quarter. And once the image of the bewitching Lord entered his mind, Place found it difficult to shake it off and experienced an extremely pleasurable sensation, even amidst the desperate situation he found himself trapped in. Still clutching at straws, his mind reluctantly veered round to the possibility of appealing to this mythological hero for aid, which seemed the only thing left, especially since all other efforts had failed. And once his mind accepted what was hitherto unthinkable for him, he felt unreasonably buoyed up and prayed in his heart of hearts to Sri Rama to somehow, somehow, lead him and thousands of his subjects out of this apparently inescapable end. " Oh Ram! " , prayed the Englishman, " Please do this, if not for my sake, then for the sake of the thousands who believe in You with all their spiritual might and conviction. I was listening to the tales of Your impossible feats with only half an ear. However, if it was possible for You to conquer that vast body of waters (lying between You and Lanka) with the mere threat of retribution, it should be no difficult task for You to control the menacing waters of this MadhurAntakam lake and to keep them confined to the inner bunds. I know full well that these are the words of an infidel who lacks absolute faith in You: but Your reputation as the epitome of mercy prompts me to beseech You. Do this for me and for the sake of the hundreds of men, women and children who are in peril, and I shall build a temple for Your Consort, whom You appear to love dearly. Lord, please do help me! " The moment this secret prayer was concluded, the Englishman saw, in a brilliant flash of lightning, the figures of two extraordinarily handsome young men, both with bows held aloft, appearing on the tank bund in the pouring rain. Their luminescent eyes seemed to radiate compassion and benevolence. Their beauty was beyond description and their regal bearing exposed their flawless lineage. They were perfectly proportioned specimens of virility, with a majestic gait and magnificent deportment. The elder of the divine duo looked at the spell-bound Colonel Place with twinkling eyes that seemed to hold out an assurance of assistance, amused at the Englishman's effort at bribery through the offer of a temple construction for Sri Mythily. The awe-struck foreigner, overwhelmed by the unbelievable apparition, just fainted and fell on the soddy tank bund with a thud, slipping into unconsciousness, obviously incapable of absorbing the full delight of the divine spectacle. When he emerged from his trance, Colonel Place found himself in his comfortable bed in his own quarters, with his minions peering anxiously at his supine form. Reminded of the impossible situation in which he had fainted, the Collector sat up with a jerk and demanded from his subordinates the latest position on the flooding threat, and felt immense relief wash over him when told that the rains had stopped with miraculous suddenness during the night and the lake waters too, poised on the brink, had receded to fairly safe levels. Through a planned opening of the sluices, the water level was brought back to near normal and the threat had blown-over. Colonel Place's skin tingled when he remembered the Divine Youth he had witnessed in that flash of lightning, who had appeared as if in answer to his unuttered prayers, and effortlessly saved not only himself but innumerable others too from a certain and watery grave. The vivid image of the Lord and His infinite mercy in answering the insincere prayers of an unbelieving foreigner continued to occupy the Englishman's thoughts forever, and he used to recount the tale with fervour to sceptical audiences even after his return to England. However, Colonel Place's newfound faith did not desert him the moment his job was done, and he lived up to his part of the bargain by constructing the ThAyAr Sannidhi at MadhurAntakam. A plaque on the Sannidhi walls still stands testimony to the aforesaid legend, which has bestowed the Lord with yet another tirunAmam, lovingly coined by His grateful votaries- " Eri kAttha Raman " . Srimate Sri LakshmINrsimha divya paduka sevaka SrivanSatakopa Sri Narayana Yatindra Mahadesikaya Nama: Dasan, Sadagopan. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 6, 2003 Report Share Posted January 6, 2003 SrI: Dear Sri Sadagopan Iyengar Swamin, dAsan's ananthakOti dhaNdavath praNamams The description, the style, the marvellous flow of sweet language, picturisation of the lake overflowing, darkness and rain falling down cats and dogs; - Lord Rama and Lakshmana standing in front of the (most blessed) AngilEyan's eyes;- you have taken us virtually to the scene. Indeed it is our fortune to be associated with such great BhAgawathas like deVarIr to ceaselessly read such brillaint posts. Without your permission, I keep sending all your posts to my cousins, friends and like minded ones (with due acknowledgements to dEvarIr of course). A brilliant account- must be pleasing to Raman and Ramanujan. Simply superb post from you as usual. May Sri LakshmI Nrusihman Bless us with such brilliant posts from you for years to come... Regards Namo Narayana dAsan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 7, 2003 Report Share Posted January 7, 2003 SrI: namO nArAyaNa! > Srimate SrivanSatakopa Sri Vedanta Desika Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama: Dear SrI Sadagopan SwAmi, Its a long time due to write to you reg your excellent articles after a few e-mails in the very beginning of your internet digvijayam :-). aDiyEn joins all others to thank you for your rich writings. Its a boon for the English based knowledge seekers and it needs very wider reach. These articles should be complied and printed for wider circulation, as my friend has suggested. -------------------------------- Reg this recent article : Sri A.Govindacharya's " The Life of Ramanujacharya " has made a very good account of this as well (pgs 57-60). The name of the *collector* was " Lionel Price " . It is said that, few months before this incident, the priests/archakas have already requested the collector to re-build the sannidhi for SItA pirATTi which was in pathetic condition etc....After some discussions, Collector casually remarked that if that Goddess has so much glories and power, let Her protect the tank this time during the rainy season by making the water not breaking the newly laid Kalingal (waste-weir)....Usually some damage Or other used to happen and it has been a routine waste of money and efforts for the Englishmen. If She does that, She deserves a shrine - remarked the Collector. This was fulfilled by him after that incident, rather a once in a life time divine experience. There are minor variations in the happenings ...aDiyEn would like to quote the last few paragraphs : ****** <Start quote> ***** " The deep noise of rolling waters smites their ears as they come nearer the bund. But it is that of the majestic roll of waters contained within bounds, and not that of giant masses dashing beyond control. Somewhat reassured, the Collector eagerly straining his eyes in the direction of the new built outlet, could descry a blue, etherial radiance playing lambent above the Kalingal (waste weir). He felt surprized and little thrilled. He advanced and when near the place - what did he behold ! He stopped short, his whole frame thrilled, and he was spellbound. Large drops of sweat stood on his brow. Not master of himself then, he threw down his umbrella, with one arm he swept his hat off, and in the wet, oozy ground overrun with pools of water, he suddenly fell on his knees, and prayed, prayed fervently and long all the time, not removing his eyes from the place. His servants observing the sudden action of their master were thunderstruck. They thought he was suddenly gone mad. They rushed to him, throwing off their fear to raise him. Then he seemed to recollect them. He got up and cried out : " Don't you see !! see, see, see there you idiots ! Why do you stare at me so ? Don't you see those glorious, transcendant beings standing there, on either side of the Kalingal with drawn arrows ? How splendid they are ? What magnificiently proportioned men ! How luminous their faces ! They smile at -, Oh, they have vanished " . The truth dawned after all on the men. How could it be otherwise ? They were Hindus, the time, place, the fact of Collector's wager with the Bramhanas, all combined to flash on them the truth ! The Englishman has seen the blessed vision of glorious Rama and Lakshmana, espousing the Devi's cause; " Jai Sita-Rama " cried they; " Our Lord (durai) hath seen the vision " . And so crying, they rushed into the sleeping town. The inhabitants awoke. " What devil's riot is this? " cry they. Then the fact becomes known. And all crying in a body, " Jai Jai Sita Rama " , rush to the Collector's camp. There he is seated in the front, bright light before him. He seems composed now. Grave and dignified he looks. Some of the important people that throng to him, he receives and makes them sit. " Gentlemen " , says he, " Why come in this night here, and why so much excitement? The outlet is not broken, nor will it ever be. I solemnly tell you I have received a lesson tonight, that I will never forget. I always more Or less believed that God was not the monopoly of the Christian Church. I am sure of it now. So do you all go to your homes. Early in the morning shall the Devi's temple begin to rise " . So said he and dismissed them. The temple was built and now in its front it has engraved on it on a stone, *how it was built* by Mr.Thomas Price, Collector in the year 1884(?)- And there are grey beards now, who talk of it solemnly of an evening, from one of whom the writer learnt it. (K.E. Central Hindu College Magazine. p. 173 ff Vol IV. 1904). The following inscription appears on the stone beam of the Devi's temple in Tamil : " inda darumam kumpini jagir kalektar lionel price durai avergaladu " and another inscription is near the waste-weir. (Read the kindly letter to me dated 13th October 1904), by Mr.P.Seshagiri Row, Tahsildar of Madhurantakam.) ****** <End quote> ********** jai sItA-rAm ! aDiyEn rAmAnuja dAsan, anantapadmanAbhan (Anand). Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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